Courtesy of AMC

If you told me that “The Crash” was directed by David Lynch and I didn’t know otherwise, I may have believed you.  To be sure, that’s a major commendation.  I adore “Mulholland Dr.,” and more often than not, “The Crash” feels like watching one of my favorite shows, “Twin Peaks.”  So it shouldn’t come as a surprise either that “The Crash” is far and away the weirdest and most subversive “Mad Men” episode to date.

That said, “The Crash” may just be one of the most brilliant episodes to date as well.  “The Crash” is the most genuinely unsettled I’ve been by an hour of television in recent memory, and that’s a testament to how unrelentingly odd this episode is.

That’s not to say “The Crash” is a 60-minute version of Roger’s trip in last season’s “Far Away Places” — it isn’t.  (Although we can only pray that episode is coming somewhere down the line, because that sounds wonderful.)  Instead, the episode is very grounded, despite its largely non-narrative structure that, judging by Twitter’s fairly explosive reaction when the episode aired, caused many to be bewildered.

The entire episode can be encapsulated in one of its final scenes, when Don apologizes to Sally for having not been there when his apartment was robbed.  “It’s my fault,” he tells Sally.  “I left the door open.” In typical “Mad Men” fashion, even this sentence is highly symbolic.  The door refers to Don’s past, which certainly plays a major role in “The Crash,” considering the fact that whatever gets injected into his butt (yes, you read that correctly) causes him to hallucinate and flashback to his first sexual experience.  Don even calls SCDP a “whorehouse” at one point, a direct reference to his upbringing in a brothel.

What happens when the door is left open is a little trickier.  For one, I believe everything we see actually happens — none of “The Crash” is a hallucination.  So yes, a woman did break into Don’s apartment by pretending to be Sally’s grandmother, and yes, Frank’s daughter did have sex with Stan following Frank’s funeral.  Okay, maybe Ken didn’t tap dance in front of Don, but still, it was worth it for this GIF.

With that in my mind, it’s analyzing the episode that becomes very difficult.  There are, of course, the episode’s more blunt scenes, and maybe these are when “The Crash” works best.  The first scene that comes to mind is certainly the one between Frank’s daughter and Don are in Don’s office and Frank’s daughter puts a stethoscope to Don’s heart.  “It’s broken,” she says.  “How did you know that?” Don asks.  She then holds up the stethoscope and says, “It’s broken.  I can’t hear anything.”  And she doesn’t mean his heart.

Here’s a scene where Don, a character that rarely ever explicitly acknowledges his sadness, accidentally reveals himself, and it’s absolutely (for lack of better words) heartbreaking.  Throughout “The Crash,” we see Don falling deeper and deeper into a depression where he stands in a stasis while everyone else is learning to adapt.

Think back to “The Doorway,” and you’ll realize that “The Crash” is Don’s character in that episode taken to an extreme.  As Stan and a co-worker run frantically around the office because they are high (and, in one of the episode’s lighter moments, play a very failed version of William Tell using darts and a drawing of an apple), Don slaves away in his office.  Don continues to work while everyone else plays — working is the only way for Don to avoid the problems of his life (namely, that he can’t adapt to a quickly changing society, that he has a problem staying in a monogamous relation, the list goes on ad infinitum), and ultimately, working can’t even save Don in “The Crash.”

“The Crash” is a sad, disturbing, and downright bizarre episode.  By no means should it be as great as it is.  The greatest part is, writers John Grote and Matthew Weiner and director Michael Uppendahl nail it.  “The Crash” is an example of challenging television, and it’s also an example of why we need more challenging television like it.  Thank God this show exists.

Alex Greenberger is entertainment editor.  Email him at agreenberger@nyunews.com.

“Haunting Melissa,” a thrills and chills video application, was launched this past Thursday by Hooked Digital Media, a next generation digital production company.  It can be found in the iTunes App Store exclusively for iPad, iPod touch, and iPhone, and is destined to change the film-going experience forever.

“I wanted to mold a story that would compliment the capabilities of the tablet and mobile device by utilizing new technology in a way that changes the viewer’s expectations,” said Neal Edelstein, the president and co-founder of Hooked Digital Media. Edelstein, (producer of such popular films as “Mulholland Drive” and “The Ring”) is the undeniable creative mastermind behind the project.  Not only did he produce the app, but also conceived it and for the first time in his career, sat behind the director’s chair to make his vision come to life.

The platform of mobile and tablet devices is perfect for telling ghost stories like “Haunting Melissa,” because it’s a solitary and incredibly spooky way to view them.  There are few things creepier than watching something scary unfold in front of you alone in a dark room. Edelstein suggested that in order to obtain the full experience, one should plug in noise cancelling headphones.

Another reason the platform raises the amount of suspense and mystery of the film is because of the way the application is designed to release the next round of video content at random intervals; therefore, you never know when the next part of the film is going to be released or how long it will be.  The unpredictability of the medium piques the viewer’s interest on what is happening on screen, and their curiosity for what is coming next.

“When it comes down to it, it is all about the story,” Edelstein assured. “The medium is just another way to experience it.”  Hooked Digital Media is thus changing the language of storytelling by offering a unique, innovative alternative to experiencing stories.

So what is “Haunting Melissa” really about?  The story, written by Andrew Klavan (writer of the novel “True Crime” and the film “One Missed Call”), centers around Melissa, who vanishes after pleading to her friends about the paranormal events that have been taking place in her secluded farmhouse.  Melissa is not only haunted by a mysterious apparition but by a locked room where her mother went insane and died.  Now, the puzzle to what really happened must be pieced together in order to discover the truth behind her haunting and subsequent vanishing.

The first video on the application starts off with a computer camera looking on to a man with his face completely blurred out.  He states how the stories told about Melissa are all lies and that the evidence has been confiscated.  He pleas for anyone who is watching, “to hear for yourself, see for yourself,” what really happened to Melissa by the footage that was found of her before she went away. Thus, the video takes off from there in a found-footage-esque style that adds to the horror and mystery by creating a more limited narrative. By the end of the initial video, it directs you to post on Facebook about it in order to unlock the following video for free.

The social media aspects of the application are another reason this form of viewing films will catch on quickly.  In the application you can easily post comments and connect on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Tumblr, and Instagram through the app, keeping up to date on where your friends are in the story and their current thoughts and reactions about it.

Despite horror being a particularly appropriate genre to showcase the platform, it is likely that people will start seeing films of all genres exclusively released as applications on tablet and mobile devices.  As even Neal himself guaranteed, Hooked Digital Media plans on releasing more content in the future that will not be limited to the horror genre.  Thus, be ready for a change in the viewing experience of future films, as Hooked Digital Media is on to something that is certain to spark a revolution.

In order to give this new revolutionary technology and way of storytelling a whirl you can download the free app “Haunting Melissa” in the iTunes App Store.  You’re sure to be in for one thrilling ride while looking through a window into the future.

Download the app now at www.AppStore.com/HauntingMelissa.

David Leidy is a contributing writer. Email him at film@nyunews.com.

Via Screen Crush

Wow. I can’t believe it. This is really hard to even comprehend, but “The Office” is over. The retrospective and the hour-long finale truly paid tribute to this phenomenal show. Even though many feel “The Office” overstayed its welcome, especially after Steve Carell left, the series finale celebrated the show so well that I think we were all feeling nostalgic and unprepared to part ways with Dunder Mifflin Scranton.

“The Office” has always had a unique kind of humor, a kind that’s understated and isn’t accompanied by a laugh track to tell you when things are funny. But with such wacky characters, the show has never had trouble making the audience laugh. In the series finale, for example, both stripper scenes were absolutely hilarious. Not only was Dwight unaware that the “waitress” was a stripper so he kept trying to order food, but Angela’s stripper was Meredith’s son. Meredith gladly showed her son how to pelvic thrust in Angela’s face, much to Angela’s horror.

But what’s great about “The Office” is that it doesn’t only have outrageous humor; there have been some incredibly poignant moments, too. The retrospective reminded us of so many great ones.

The retrospective also emphasized how this show was about ordinary people — the sweet romance (Jim and Pam), the man who wants more (Dwight), the man who wants to be loved (Michael), etc. After nine seasons, the real core of the characters had become lost or just forgotten. But the finale really emphasized these cores: Jim and Pam are happily moving to Austin, Dwight is finally married to Angela and is the regional manager, and Michael is still happily married to Holly with children.

Speaking of Michael Scott, I was not at all disappointed or underwhelmed by his reappearance. It was a smart move to not make his return too big. After all, the finale should be for the show and all its characters, not just for Michael. Michael was only seen at the wedding, which was another smart move made by the showrunners. His presence at the office party would just detract from the current employees saying goodbye to Dunder Mifflin.

I was a little underwhelmed by the panel, though. The only major thing that came from the panel is that the audience made Pam feel incredibly selfish in her relationship with Jim. It was sweet to see Erin reunited with her parents, though. I did think the concept of the panel was great in terms of getting everyone to reunite, and it was just so meta. “The Office” actors are playing ordinary people who become kind of famous, and they play these ordinary people in a panel for a show within a show. Or something like that. I still can’t fully wrap my head around it all.

So where do we leave the characters? Everyone seems to be right where they should be — Dwight is manager, Stanley is retired, Toby is fired, and Pam and Jim are leaving Scranton. I was most satisfied with Andy working with Cornell’s admissions, though. This fits him so much better as Andy had always been nostalgic for his college days. The storyline didn’t even feel rushed or completely implausible with him being the Cornell commencement speaker and all that.

“The Office” ended its nine-year run not with a loud bang, but with a hilarious, emotional, sweet, poignant bang that only “The Office” could do. Pam summed it up best: “I thought it was weird when you picked us to make a documentary. But all in all, I think an ordinary paper company like Dunder Mifflin was a great subject for a documentary. There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn’t that kind of the point?”

Goodbye, “The Office.” Thank you for everything.

Vivianne Nguyen is a contributing writer.  Email her at entertainment@nyunews.com.

via collider.com

The balance between whimsy and cynicism allow “Frances Ha” to escape what could have easily become a ninety-minute episode of HBO’s “Girls.” At the helm of “Frances” is the occasional Wes Anderson collaborator, Noah Baumbach, who delivers his most effective and fully realized film since 2005’s “The Squid and the Whale.”

The story follows Frances (Greta Gerwig), the stereotypical quirky girl who is trying to live and love and dance in New York City while maintaining control of her life. She lives with her best friend, Sophie (Mickey Sumner), as she attempts to become a member of the modern dance company where she is currently an apprentice. Naturally, everything changes and Frances is left without a home and with her future as a dancer seeming unlikely. And so, as is familiar with Baumbach films, Frances must then reevaluate all of her abilities, dreams, and relationships.

Baumbach’s films fluctuate between examinations of familial discontent and the individual in transition. His characters are always “finding” themselves. But through a biting, self-aware wit, he is able to alleviate the inherent pretentiousness at the core of this film. For example, he chooses to shoot the film in black and white, reminiscent of the French New Wave genre. Such an artistic choice just seems unnecessary, but thankfully, the result is more elegant than irritating.

What really makes this film work is Baumbach’s collaboration with Gerwig, their second after 2010’s “Greenberg.” This time, the real-life couple co-wrote the piece, accentuating every aspect of Gerwig’s natural charm. The blending of her likability and his brutally authentic perspective conjures up an intriguing contrast.

Though Gerwig anchors the film, the supporting cast is impeccable. Sumner shines as the irritated best friend trying to figure out her own life. Other standouts include Adam Driver as Lev, the womanizer, and Michael Zegen as Benji, the aspiring writer. They play rich college graduates who let Frances stay with them at one point.

Further linking the viewing experience to “Girls,” Driver (best known as Hannah Horvath’s boyfriend Adam) is effectively kind and silly. Zegen, of “Rescue Me” fame, has a sort of slacker magnetism that gives Frances hope, while never fully digressing into an archetype.

The soundtrack deserves special recognition for fixing many of the pacing issues the film would have faced. As always, Baumbach infuses the action with the modest and the mainstream, including the recurring use of David Bowie’s “Modern Love.” The film does seem a bit long, despite its brief run time. However, once the plot veers from the mumblecore genre into more interesting situations, you are so invested with the characters that it does not matter.

After a few self-serious and depressing ventures like “Margot at the Wedding,” viewers should be pleasantly surprised by the optimism found in Baumbach’s latest film. It is a delightful and frequently funny watch that never surrenders its brains for a quick laugh or a tug at the heartstrings.

Ben Marques is a contributing writer. Email him at film@nyunews.com.

via pbs.org

Writer/director Sarah Polley, previously known for her two highly acclaimed feature films “Away From Her” and “Take This Waltz,” returns her talents to the screen in a new format with her first documentary feature, “Stories We Tell.” Polley isn’t afraid to leave out a single detail in her family’s history in her latest effort and manages to craft an emotional and revelatory look at how a family’s varying recollections of the past have shaped them in the future.

Polley began filming without knowing what direction her film would take, only knowing that she wanted to explore family history and the way people remember things.  She starts filming with no direction, and takes her viewers on a journey for purpose and revelation through interviews with her immediate family, friends of the family, and others who have become entwined in the thick fabric of her family’s story over the years.

Polly intercuts these interviews with footage shot on Super-8 mm film of actors that look uncannily like her parents and her family to recreate the feel of old home videos.  At the outset it appears that they are real home videos, but we later learn it isn’t so, left to try to discern what parts of the footage and photographs were real and which were manufactured.

The theme of not knowing what is real continues throughout the film as Polley asks her main subjects—her father Michael, brothers Johnny and Mark, and sisters Joanna and Susan about their experiences growing up, and their memory of their mother, Diana Polley, who died when Polley was ten years old.  As they begin to unravel the past, we see that everyone has different memories of key events that have been altered by time, repression, or the lack of all the facts, which Polley gathers from friends of her mother.

The film is never boring, as Polley, with expert pacing, uses the film’s interviews to reveal key, often shocking, information that propels the narrative forward.  It all culminates in a major revelation about Polley’s lineage—from that point, Sarah becomes more of a character in her own documentary as she struggles with the fallout and how to break the news to those she loves most.  After listening to everyone else’s story, Polley must figure out how to tell her own, and in that she finds a purpose for the film.

“Stories We Tell” is intensely personal, but all audiences will be affected by the unashamed look at a dysfunctional but loving family, and the raw openness with which Polley reveals the most intimate and damaging secrets her family has hidden for so long.  That her family was willing to tell all for the sake of Polley’s art and for personal closure is truly a cathartic experience for everyone whose family is too afraid to share their own secrets.

Ife Olujobi is a staff writer. Email her at film@nyunews.com.

via collider.com

Quite possibly the most shocking and psychologically distressing film of this decade, Kim Ki-Duk’s 18th feature film, “Pieta,” invited curious critics after stealing the Golden Lion Award at the 2012 Venice Film Festival from “The Master.” The ruthless style of filmmaking embodied by “Pieta,” however, is not unusual when considering the hyper-violent and sexual trend recently embraced by Asian cinema, such as 2003’s “Oldboy” and 2007’s “Lust, Caution.”

Unlike those two films, however, “Pieta” evokes cold realism. It does not put any effort to censor the agonies hidden in the corners of contemporary, industrial Seoul. The film revolves around an emotionally stunted loan shark who routinely cripples his clients for not paying their dues on time. One day, an older woman shows up out of the blue, claiming to be his mother who had abandoned him at birth. Angered and confused by her sudden appearance to his previously solitary life, he initially degenerates, but begins to rethink his abusive tendencies as he becomes attached to his supposed mother.

There is a constant oedipal and incestual undertone present throughout the film, never allowing the viewers to be at ease. In fact, the film is filled with subtlety, whether it is symbolism or tension. Like its title, the film is religiously charged in that the man finds himself seeking redemption. Can he be saved? Will the gods be so forgiving? The social commentary against today’s state of capitalism is also apparent, lingering on the pathetic lifestyles of industrial slaves who inevitably succumb to the delusion of money.

The performances by the two leads, Lee Jeong-Jin and Jo Min-Soo, are completely convincing. The viewers’ discomfort primarily arises from the actors’ visible comfort on screen; being able to perform grotesque sexual activities all the while having us believe that they are mother and son. They feed off their anger and frustration from each other, constantly competing to steal the spotlight. Lee’s gothic look helps carry his bluntness while Jo’s hippie-like, colorful appearance counters the coldness that seeps out from his emotional state. Though previously criticized for showing misogyny, “Pieta” has one of the strongest, multi-layered female protagonists in avant-garde cinema.

Kim Ki-Duk’s direction also shines. His careful choice of a gritty yet intricate production design and minimal dialogues cumulatively achieve an ominous tone that is apparent in his other critically acclaimed pieces, “Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring” and “3-Iron.” Kim seems to be interested in the various natures of humanity that is revealed when faced with desperate measures. When watching his films, it is important to look past the obscenity and notice what these shocking images reveal about Kim’s perception of religion, family, and love.

“Pieta” is difficult to watch, to say the least, but it is worth a look, as it resides on the opposite spectrum of its blockbuster Western counterparts. It is definitely not what audiences are used to, and hopefully that should serve as an appropriate warning.

Nora Chang is a contributing writer. Email her at film@nyunews.com.

via beyondhollywood.com

After being released overseas last year, “The Expatriate,” the first English-language film from German director Philipp Stölzl comes to the United States this week as “Erased.” Although the overall look and feel of the film exceeds the expectations of its low budget, the action-thriller struggles to offer anything fresh and thrilling, relying on a talented cast headed by Aaron Eckhart to prevent it from drowning in 104 minutes of clichés.

Eckhart stars as Ben Logan, an American attempting to rebuild his life in Belgium, where he works for Halgate, a high-tech security company. He is a single parent to his fifteen-year-old daughter, Amy (Liana Liberato), whom he is forced to forge a relationship with after being away for much of her childhood. Screenwriter Arash Amel narrowly misses creating Amy as a typical bratty teenager. He is saved by up-and-coming actress Liberato, who delivers a performance that sways Amy to be likable, and ensures that she is not merely the “annoying daughter” character. The strong chemistry between Eckhart and Liberato overcomes the trope of a strained father-daughter relationship and holds the film together.

The film dives into its plot when Logan and Amy arrive at Logan’s workplace to discover that it has been completely emptied overnight. Conflict escalates when Logan learns that there isn’t a record of him or his job ever existing. The blistering pace of the film is set when Logan’s assistant attempts to kill him and he is able to counterattack with skills that his daughter questions. Logan reveals to his daughter that he used to work for the CIA as a kill squad assassin.

As the plot rapidly unravels, Logan’s secrets continue to be exposed, creating more tension in his relationship with Amy, who had been shielded from his past. Their relationship takes as much precedence in the film as the mystery of whom and what Logan is running from.

But despite that, “Erased” is an action movie at its core, and the action scenes are a positive aspect of the film. The choreographed fights prove Eckhart’s versatility as an actor; a better script would have made him the second-coming of Liam Neeson. However, a muddled and mundane script weighs the film down, despite a strong cast (which includes Olga Kurylenko from “Oblivion”) that is above the fatigued lines they deliver. “Erased” attempts to compensate for its lack of originality by borrowing as many plots, characters, and dialogues from other successful action movies as it can. Every “twist” and revelation of information only serve to make the plot more and more convoluted.

While “Erased” isn’t a bad film, it is ultimately forgettable and will only be overshadowed by the slew of higher-profile films being released in the summer season.

Marissa Elliot Little is a staff writer. Email her at film@nyunews.com.

via aceshowbiz.com

In Craig Zisk’s “The English Teacher,” Julianne Moore plays Linda Sinclair, a high school English teacher who’d rather experience adventure, love and heartbreak through the classic novels she reads rather than in her own life.

When Jason Sherwood (Michael Angarano), a young man and former student of hers, comes back from New York after failing to become a playwright, her safe world turns upside down. Not wanting Jason to give up his dreams as a playwright and go to law school like his father wants him to, Linda makes it her mission to produce Jason’s play for her high school.

While “Teacher” certainly isn’t the most nuanced film or Moore’s best role, there is something about Linda’s character that makes the film quite enjoyable to watch. If the film is anything, it is humorous.

But the way that the film constantly reinforces Linda’s dorky personality—such as the British narrative voice-over that runs throughout the movie—is much too cheesy. As hard as the film tries to make Linda’s “bookworm” image unique, there is really nothing special about her—she falls into the stereotypical role of a “nerd” who doesn’t get out much. Even when she goes on blind dates, she has an imaginative grade book in her head that disapproves of every man she meets.

Angarano’s character, however, adds to the film’s humor with his blunt dialogue, such as when he curses Linda out for pepper spraying him to near blindness. Still though, as the film progresses, Jason becomes less humorous and more despicable as his character is revealed to be judgmental, unforgiving and a liar.

It seems as though the film’s best and most likable character is Jason’s father, Dr. Sherwood, played by Greg Kinnear. His character undergoes a strong transformation from an overbearing father to a deeply considerate and forgiving man. Kinnear’s performance is the strongest of the film, as he challenges the stereotype of how older generations are more judgmental and less forgiving than their younger counterparts. Dr. Sherwood’s interactions with Linda make up the film’s most sincere moments.

Ultimately, it is disappointing how much the film focuses on Linda’s romantic involvements rather than on her character as an independent entity. Much like Emma Stone’s character in “Easy A,” Linda is chastised for her lewd behavior. But while Stone’s character has more confidence in her actions and has an agenda of her own, Linda is constantly seeking approval and forgiveness from the males around her.

“The English Teacher” isn’t a particularly stimulating experience, as it serves its basic purpose of being light and pleasant. Still, as predictable as it may be, there is still a strong message to be found within the film—to step out of the sidelines and start participating in your own life.

Alex Mujica is a staff writer. Email her at film@nyunews.com.

via npr.org

In a time where issues of mental health are generally accepted by society, it is easy to forget an era of more intense stigmatization. In her new film, director Alice Wincourt ventures into a period where mental health was both highly intriguing and highly mistreated, and uses this as a backdrop to explore the fascinating relationship between doctor and patient.

Based on a true story, “Augustine” focuses on the dynamic between pre-Freudian neurologist, Dr. Jean Martin Charcot, and his most famed patient, Augustine. Augustine is a young French kitchen maid who is suffering from convulsions. As a result, she is put in a psychiatric hospital, where she is diagnosed with hysteria. As her illness progresses, it begins to change in nature, and Charcot notices that she is beginning to derive physical pleasure from the experience. From here on, Augustine becomes more protégé than patient, being subjected to a variety of tests and maltreatment.

One of the first things the viewer notices about “Augustine” is its profound quality. The movie opens on a shot of a crab about to be boiled, stretching and clawing for another chance at life in an animalistic way reminiscent of Augustine’s convulsions. It’s a beautiful close up and an image that sticks with us as we watch Augustine’s entrapment at the hospital.

The film is laden with other beautiful close-ups, from a trembling hand that fills the screen to Augustine’s face during a convulsion. Augustine’s fits are presented in a way that both shocks and draws in the viewer; possibly what makes this so spectacular is the fact that the actress was actually subjected to her limbs being pulled in all directions by ropes during these scenes. She has no control over her body, and this translates into a realistic portrayal of hysteria on camera.

The movie does fail in a few ways, though. One area it lacks is in is making the viewer feel they know and understand the characters. Though it is clear that something is amiss between doctor and patient, we are often hard pressed to guess what either character is feeling or thinking. Charcot is quiet and brooding, while Augustine too has a quiet presence, accompanied by a consistent look of fear. Through much of the movie, the viewer may feel too distant from the characters’ feelings and development.

As the film progresses, this does improve to some extent as Augustine begins to assert herself more. In one scene she defies Charcot’s wishes by stealing an apple, and in another gets close enough to kiss him before storming away when he ends the moment. She gains power over him, but subtly.

Regardless, “Augustine” is a well-shot movie, and a unique take on an intriguing subject. Through the strength of the Augustine character, Wincourt seems to defy the times, but in a way that’s accurate with the true story. Wincourt has clearly has done her research, replicating the conditions of the hospital in a way that appears very real and not too forced. It’s a fascinating time period, and the audience finds themselves drawn into the same original mindset as Charcot who at one point insists, “I just want to understand.”

Margaret Weinberg is a contributing writer. Email her at film@nyunews.com.

Via Screen Picks

Have you ever noticed how some people unintentionally affect accents? Often, you can see it when two people with different accents are in conversation. The mimicry is subtle — a changed cadence, or the adoption of an unusual idiom. “Veep” plays with this phenomenon in “Helsinki,” and, once again, proves its gift for sending up subtleties that often go unnoticed.

It is hard to describe this phenomenon, and thus, hard to adequately convey Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ performance in “Helsinki.” She is so spot-on in portraying Selina Meyer’s cringe-worthy brand of accent appropriation. Selina is already hilarious for the way she changes her speaking; she’s oafish in private and histrionically political in public. But she really plays up the VP’s crassness this time around. During her trip to Helsinki, Finland’s Prime Minister nods at the VP in farewell. Rather than extend her hand for a handshake, Selina appropriates the PM’s gesture clumsily, offering a bastardized burlesque of the prime minister’s melodic farewell.

With the backdrop of cultured Finland, American idiocy is made to look even stupider. During a press conference, the Finnish PM is bizarrely gifted with a book about fishing. Taken aback and with perfect English, she informs that the inscription contains a typo: “Finland, you are hefty,” it reads. “Ironic,” she says “because Americans have a higher body mass index than Finns.” Selina has a superlative response to the Prime Minister. “This is why I have launched my Get Moving campaign, which is aimed specifically at the obese, and the morbidly obese.” A pause follows, and we are left consider the immense gulf between these two countries. Then we cut to a new scene.

And yet, for every American diplomatic blunder, there is a private, xenophobic zinger. At a press conference, an aggressive British journalist heckles Selina. Back on Air Force II, her team waxes poetic about British reporters. “You do not want one of those on your back. They’ll sell nude pics of their grandmother for a glass of hot beer.” Later, Selina embarrasses herself in front of the Finnish PM for missing an Aki Kaurismäki reference. It only makes sense that, within minutes, communications director Dan describes Finland as an “indie movie hellhole.” “Veep’s” Americans are stupid, but “Veep” has more to say than just this; there is a more nuanced cultural critique at play.

In this way, “Veep” never caves into cliché. The Americans are three-dimensional — they’re stupid, but in a pointed way. The Finns are more graceful, but they aren’t without their moments of oddity and insipidness — no one is safe from “Veep’s” satire. When Selina is gifted with an “Angry Birds” clock, she remarks, “What a lovely clock with an unusual bird.” The PM explains that “Angry Birds” is of Finnish design, and she hilariously fumbles for a way to make this political relevant. She lands on the game marking Finland as a “pioneer of software innovation.” It feels, for a moment, like “Veep” is offering a critique of global politics, but Selina is soon back in the spotlight, relating Angry Birds to video game violence. She assures that “in this case, it’s great to kill the pigs.” Hastily, she adds, “…In a game, of course.”

Jake Folsom is a staff writer.  Email him at entertainment@nyunews.com.